


The Heart of the Beholder

by DeandraAlleyan



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: #eothiriel, #first meetings, #how they met, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeandraAlleyan/pseuds/DeandraAlleyan
Summary: Eomer saw past Lothiriel’s plainness to find the beauty within, but making her his wife doesn’t prove to be a simple matter.  A sequel to “The Eye of the Beholder” - it’s best to read that first.  [complete in 8 chapters]
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Lothíriel
Comments: 16
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _I’m no doctor, but I am fairly certain that the sort of medical condition described in this story could occur, and progress as indicated. But I cannot speak to the specifics of it and it is possible my story is truly “fiction” in this regard. Take it with a grain of salt!_

A sequel to “The Eye of the Beholder”

**1\. Prologue**

The lovers stood in the courtyard, wrapped in one another’s arms, reluctant to be parted. At last, Eomer said with a sigh, “I must go, beloved.”

Lothiriel pulled away slightly and nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Safe journey to you,” she whispered.

They had said their farewells the night before, in private, to avoid a scene the next day. Eomer gently touched her cheek, and could not resist one last kiss, before firmly turning away and mounting his horse. “I will write as soon as I arrive,” he promised, and she answered with only a nod.

Prince Imrahil and his son, Amrothos, stepped forward. “Eomer,” the Prince said, “I am pleased that things worked out – for both of you. We will see you soon. You are always welcome here.”

Amrothos reached up and they clasped forearms, but said nothing. Amrothos had finally been told what the difficulty was, and why his family had left Edoras so suddenly, and Eomer was greatly relieved that, upon seeing his sister’s present happiness, he was forgiven and they remained friends. With a nod of his head, Eomer turned his horse and signaled his party forward, out the castle gates. Lothiriel stood at the gates and watched them leave, until at last they crested a hill. Eomer turned and waved once before they rode out of sight.

Eomer’s return trip to Edoras was bittersweet. While he had good memories of his visit to Gondor, and he had accomplished his purpose of seeing Eowyn’s baby and convincing Lothiriel of his remorse and love for her, he was loath to be parted from her so soon after. He knew the winter months would hamper correspondence between them, and travel would be extremely difficult, so he would have to wait until spring before he could hope to see her again and renew their courtship in person.

During the time Eomer was recovering from the wound inflicted by the Haradrim dart, he and Lothiriel had spent a great deal of time together. At first, he felt a reticence in her, as though she was afraid to trust him too much, but at length it seemed she was persuaded that his feelings for her were genuine and true, and finally she fully opened her heart to him.

She had told him that, though she was very fond of him prior to his kissing her, she had never thought of him romantically. Later she confessed that was not entirely so. She had been taken with him from the outset, but believed there was little chance he would ever be interested in her, daughter of a prince or not, and so she had not permitted herself to entertain any such notions. And his actions had seemed to confirm this was so. She liked him immensely as a friend, but felt certain that was all they would ever be. When he had kissed her that night, for one brief moment she had dared allow herself to hope he might indeed have feelings for her. But Garod put in appearance, and she instantly believed the worst, considering herself a fool to have ever thought there could be anything between them. Once she was convinced of his sincerity and regard, however, he found her to be an incredibly loving and affectionate person, more even than he had thought her to be. Apparently, never having had anyone on which to shower her affection had pent up a lot of love, and he was the recipient of her attention. Between the fortnight in Emyn Arnen and another in Dol Amroth, they had spent a month getting better acquainted on a much different level.

Eomer had not thought he would ever admit to her what Garod had said about her, and his own initial reaction to her, but he was too honest to deceive her. And, in a way, he wanted her to know that he was choosing her because of something much greater and better than any outward beauty. In reflection, he thought that, in his past, the physical beauty of a woman had probably blinded him to looking deeper for something more lasting and worthwhile. And to his surprise, he found that his love for her made him see her differently; to his eyes she was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever known.

And now he was headed home. Suddenly that notion wasn’t as appealing as it always had been before. Not until Lothiriel was back at his side would he ever find complete peace there again. He tried to push aside his sadness at their parting and focus on something more cheerful. He had little doubt his advisers would be pleased with the marriage he had agreed to, though they might be put out that they’d had no say in the matter. Still, the prospect of an alliance with the daughter to the prince of a neighboring fiefdom was sure to satisfy them. 

He couldn’t hold back a slight smirk as he thought of Garod and what his reaction would be upon learning who the new Queen of Rohan was to be. Eomer was almost tempted to torment the man with it as much as possible, but in all honesty, he suspected if Garod had not warned him away from her, he might not have taken so much notice of her. It was possible that, in a roundabout way, Garod had helped bring them together by making Eomer feel protective of his friend’s daughter. At any rate, even if he did not torment Garod, the man was likely to suffer sufficiently just wondering what the new Queen would do to him if she knew of his slight.

The ride home proved uneventful, except in that Eomer felt more and more lonely the farther they travelled from Dol Amroth. It was then he began to realize that, even though he had come to understand he was in love with Lothiriel, he had held his feelings in check because of the rift between them. Once that was resolved, and he allowed his feelings full rein, he discovered he loved her even more deeply than he had known. It had crept up on him so quietly and subtly that he had never seen it coming. He remembered Eowyn talking about how she and Faramir had met and interacted, and then fallen in love. At least for Eowyn, she too had been taken unaware by her feelings for this man she had counted as a friend. It seemed he and his sister were alike in that respect.

xxxxx

The days might have proven monotonous during the winter had not Eomer begun to see Edoras, and particularly Meduseld, with new eyes. Before this, he had never given much thought to how it might appear to an outsider, but now he found himself contemplating what it would be like for Lothiriel to come here after living her entire life in Gondor. Gondor society was much more polished and advanced than the simple life they lived in Rohan. Royalty in his country was not so separated from the people as in Gondor, and it was not unusual for the king to participate in town activities more as a citizen than a monarch. 

Some distance had been put between him and the men he commanded by his new position, and he missed the close friendship he had shared with a number of them. As he thought about it, and about how Lothiriel would fit in there, he determined he wanted to renew his friendships with old friends. He did not want to allow his sovereignty to cut him off from that, and he did not think that Lothiriel would enjoy being an untouchable ruler either. Part of what he had liked most about her, in their previous time together in his city, had been how well she fit in, accepted and appreciated this way of life.

Over the next few months, he made it a point to renew his ties with Elfhelm and Eothain. Elfhelm was an older man, but they had been friends a long time. He had fought alongside Eomer’s father, and took something of a personal interest in the son when Eomund had been killed. Eomer and Eothain had grown up together, and managed to get into a great deal of mischief. He knew the two of them had sometimes driven his uncle to distraction; Eowyn also, when she had been able to persuade the duo to allow her to join them in their schemes.

When spring finally arrived, cold and damp, Eomer was greatly looking forward to bringing Lothiriel to Rohan and formally introducing her to his people as his betrothed. While the betrothal had been announced, he did wish to present her to them in person. In the meantime, life went on in Rohan, complete with the ongoing dangers from orcs and the renegade Dunlendings who hadn’t taken a vow at the Hornburg. He would have liked to feel his homeland was safe and secure before bringing his wife here, but there was slow progress in reaching that state.

_to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. Chapter 1**

Eomer shifted restlessly in the saddle. The whole eored was on edge as they made their way toward the small village where the Dunlendings had last been seen. They had attacked the village and done considerable damage to homes and crops, though fortunately the people had all escaped with their lives.

Eomer realized he had grown tired of warfare. The defeat of Mordor had seemed to signal peace for all of Middle-earth, but there were still disgruntled factions who battled on in their various spheres. Rohan was still plagued by the marauding Dunlendings, and roving bands of Orcs that remained at large. While it was good to be out from behind a desk and back in a saddle, Eomer was weary of the fighting and killing.

Elfhelm had just ridden up alongside him when, without warning, the dissident Dunlendings they sought burst from cover and attacked their party. Many in the eored were new to this, boys who were just recently of age and taking the place of those who had fallen in the War of the Ring. Nevertheless, they had been well trained and fought with conviction, and the eored greatly outnumbered their foe. 

The tide was soon turning in Rohan’s favor, when two Dunlendings went after the king. They sought to grab Firefoot’s bridle, but the stallion reared in protest and they fell back in haste. Then Firefoot took a misstep and his hind leg gave way under him, causing him to come crashing to the ground, solidly landing on Eomer’s lower body and knocking the wind from him. Quickly Eothain and Elfhelm felled the attackers, and rushed to the aid of their king. The two soldiers fought side by side defending the downed man until what was left of the Dunlendings broke off the attack and fled.

The king’s horse had risen almost immediately, but Eomer lay dazed and obviously in pain. Once the pain eased somewhat, they sought to help him to stand, but Eomer gazed at his friends in horror. “I cannot move my legs!” he gasped hoarsely.

The pair eyed one another across him, then bodily lifted Eomer between them and essentially carried him over to Elfhelm’s horse. With difficulty, and the help of others, they managed to get him in the saddle, and Elfhelm mounted behind him for the journey back to Edoras. The trip was made in grim silence. While not everyone knew of the king’s paralysis, they all knew he was injured, and were sobered at the thought.

xxxxx

The healer finished his examination and sat back in his chair. “Your spine does not appear broken, my lord, but it was severely bruised. It is difficult to say what lasting effect that will have. It may be this paralysis is only temporary, but…” He didn’t finish the sentence, though Eomer was in little doubt as to what he meant.

Eomer’s jaw clenched as he felt all eyes on him. “Are you finished with me?” he asked tightly.

The healer nodded. “I will leave some herbs that can be added to hot water. They will help ease the pain while you heal. Beyond that, there is little more I can do.”

“Then I wish to be alone.” He looked meaningfully around the room, and all present hastily prepared to depart. 

Last to go was Gamling. “My lord, is there anything you wish before I–”

Eomer cut him off. “Speak of this to no one, Gamling. And instruct the others to do likewise.”

Gamling slowly nodded, but asked, “Shall I inform Lady Loth–”

“No! Do not tell her what has happened!” Eomer swallowed hard and glared at him.

“As you wish, my lord.” Quickly he exited the room to where the others awaited him in the hall. He passed on the king’s instructions not to mention his condition and they nodded their understanding.

xxxxx

The next two weeks were unpleasant for everyone. The king was not only bed-bound, but also surly with anyone who came near. He ate little and yelled much. He kept his curtains drawn and refused to see anyone other than Gamling, who he knew would do as he was told without asking questions.

Gamling had done as requested and not notified Lothiriel of the king’s injury, but since nothing had been said about notifying his sister – and Gamling made it a point not to ask – he sent a letter to her about the situation and of the king’s injunction not to tell his betrothed. That had been sent the day after the accident took place, but no word had come from Gondor since then.

And the king sank deeper and deeper into a depression. The council members grew ever more concerned at his refusal to meet with them, and Gamling had done his best to conduct business in Eomer’s stead. In some instances, he essentially had to tell the council to act as they saw fit until the king was able to resume his duties. They were not satisfied with this answer, but it was the best Gamling could give them, and they had no other choice but to do so.

Even Elfhelm and Eothain, who had been close friends of the king prior to this, were turned away when they came to visit. They and Gamling shared dark looks over the situation, but none spoke of their greatest concern – that the king would never come to terms with this or return to the throne. As men, and warriors, it was not that they were unsympathetic to Eomer’s circumstances. In truth, they were uncomfortably aware that, but for the grace of the Valar, it might be one of them facing this nightmare. But the most pressing need was to find a way to help Eomer cope, and they felt inadequate to that task.

xxxxx

Prince Imrahil was surprised when it was announced that his nephew, Faramir, had arrived to see him. There had been no dispatch advising of an impending visit, and he found that curious. Faramir strode quickly into the room, and just by his grave countenance, Imrahil knew this was not merely a social call.

“Uncle, I must speak with you and Lothiriel at once,” he announced without preamble.

Imrahil nodded and signaled to the servant. “Would you find my daughter and send her to me?” The servant bowed and exited to his task.

When they were alone, Imrahil gave Faramir a questioning look and his nephew told him, “I will wait to go into detail once Lothiriel is here, but it concerns Eomer and it is not good news. She will likely need our support in this.”

Again Imrahil nodded, though trepidation flooded through him. He had thought Lothiriel and Eomer had finally found happiness with each other. He very much hoped this was only a passing matter that could be overcome, for he did not wish to see either suffer.

A few moments later, Lothiriel joined them and Faramir took her hands as he sat down beside her. He thought for a moment how best to phrase his message, then finally pulled out a letter from his pocket and handed it to her to read. When she was done, she passed it to her father and sat staring at the floor. Once Imrahil looked up from reading, Faramir said, “I am sure Eomer is upset by this injury and not thinking clearly. Eowyn would go to Edoras if she could, but the baby is not old enough to travel such a distance yet. Despite his not wanting you told about this, Lothiriel, I think you should go to him. He needs you there, whether he realizes it or not.”

Both her father and cousin watched her closely to see her reaction. At last she pulled her gaze from the floor and rose. “If an escort can be ready on the morrow, I will be prepared to depart first thing in the morning.” 

Her father stood and went to embrace her. “I will arrange for it. And when Amrothos returns from Minas Tirith, I will send him along to join you.” He kissed her forehead and she gave him a watery smile.

“I will be all right, Father. Do not worry about me.” She pulled free from his arms and stepped to her cousin. Giving him a hug, she said softly, “Thank you for letting me know, Faramir. And thank Eowyn for ignoring his wishes in the matter. Assure her I will take good care of him for her.”

Faramir kissed her head as well. “She already knows you will. That is why she wanted you to be told.”

Lothiriel moved slowly from the room, but with each step her stride became firmer and brisker, and she raced up the stairs to her bedchamber. Quickly she began pulling out clothing for the trip and told her maid-servant, “Fetch bags for me to pack in – not trunks. I want to travel as light as possible so as to shorten the journey.” The servant nodded and hastily exited.

When she returned with the requested bags, they set about packing the belongings that were laid out on the bed. Within little over an hour, all was packed that could be today. A few last minute items would be added in the morning before their departure. And then Lothiriel was left alone to her thoughts.

The implications of Eomer’s paralysis were not lost on her. A king was supposed to lead his men into battle, when necessary, and was also expected to produce an heir. Both of those activities were in jeopardy by this injury. And for a man, especially a warrior, that would be a difficult thing to accept.

She tried to envision life with a man who could not walk or do many of the things a husband normally would, but it was difficult to picture Eomer in that setting. He was so robust and full of life that it seemed impossible anything could keep him down. 

And she was not the only one affected. How would the people of Rohan react? Would they want a different king who was not so impaired? If Eomer stepped down, then Eowyn would be the natural replacement, but would she and Faramir wish to give up their new home and titles and responsibilities in Gondor? Undoubtedly, Eowyn would not leave her country to fend for itself, but it would not be an easy decision for them to make.

Lothiriel had always loved children, and hoped to have many of her own. Could she let go of that dream without causing Eomer to feel as if he had failed her?

Question after question chased through her mind, but few solid answers manifested themselves. The only thing she was certain of was her love for Eomer, and her determination to do all she could to get them both through this experience without it driving them apart.

_to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. Chapter 2**

In the middle of the third week since the accident, the sentries sent word to Gamling that riders approached – bearing the flag of Dol Amroth.

A short time later, the party rode up to the steps of Meduseld and Gamling awaited them on the terrace.

Lothiriel climbed to the Golden Hall with determination. At the top, Gamling greeted her, “My lady Lothiriel, we were not expecting you.” He gave her a curious look, but Lothiriel suspected he had a good idea of why she had come unannounced.

"I will explain inside," Lothiriel told him, and they moved toward the doors into the Golden Hall.

Once they had entered and the doors shut, she turned to him with a sigh. "How is he faring?"

Gamling hesitated, not wanting to say anything untoward about his sovereign, but he trusted the Lady Lothiriel and knew she only meant to be of help. "He is...discouraged. Completely. The healers do not know if he will ever be able to walk again, and for a man such as the King, that is a cruel thing." He paused, then said, "I do not think he wishes to see you – or even to have you know of this, though surely he must realize you have to be told." Quietly he added, "He instructed me not to inform you, but he said nothing about telling his sister, and I did mention to her that he said not to tell you. I confess I was hoping Lady Eowyn would ignore that and do so anyway."

Lothiriel smiled weakly. "You know her well, sir. She wasted no time in advising me. Her babe is still too young to make such a trip, and she knew I would come in her stead if I was made aware of it."

Lothiriel straightened, and pulled her riding gloves from her hands. "I will go to him now. Please see that we are not disturbed, no matter how much yelling may be heard."

Gamling nodded his understanding. "I shall see to it personally. Is there anything you require?"

She gave a mirthless laugh. "Greater courage would be nice," she commented ruefully.

He shook his head. "I do not think you lack for courage." Then he added, "Trust your heart, my lady. You will know what to do and say."

She appreciated the vote of confidence in her, and reached over to squeeze his arm in thanks. Then, taking a deep breath, she moved in the direction of Eomer's chambers.

At his door, she paused, considering knocking. He might certainly turn her away if he knew it was her, but perhaps he would think it a servant… She knocked loudly and held her breath. At least his response would give her some idea of his present mood, though it was unlikely to be any better than Gamling had indicated.

“Go away!” Eomer’s voice demanded, rife with annoyance.

She blanched at his tone, but took a deep breath and lifted the latch anyway. He was looking away when she stepped into the room, but turned at the sound of her step, bellowing, “I said go–” He visibly paled at the sight of her and turned away. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you truly believe you could hide this from me, Eomer? Or that I would not come when I learned of it?” she answered quietly. She moved over and threw open the window curtains that had the room in darkness despite the sunny day outside.

“Close those! I did not say to open them!”

She walked away from the curtains without doing as he ordered, and stood looking at him, her arms crossed in front of her.

Glaring, he demanded, “Go away! I do not want you here.” He paused, then added more softly, but with bitterness in his voice, “I do not want your pity.” He stared fixedly at the foot of his bed.

“Good, because I have no pity to offer you.” His head whipped around at this comment, and she firmly added, “But I will not go away.”

He glowered more at her. “You will if I say so! Our betrothal is void! Go back to Dol Amroth and leave me in peace!”

Almost without realizing what she was doing, she strode to the side of the bed. He sat pushed up against the headboard, leaning on pillows, and was startled by her advancing upon him. Her left hand swung hard and fast, before he could react, and a moment later he was rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him.

“You do not need _my_ pity – you have plenty of your own without it! Is this the great King of Rohan, a Rohirric warrior, wallowing in his misfortunes and feeling sorry for himself?” 

Her words were as stunning as a second blow and he recoiled in astonishment. He had never seen Lothiriel like this before and, for a moment, he was left speechless.

And then, for the first time since the accident had occurred, Eomer felt tears welling up inside. The last thing he wanted to do was add to his apparent weakness before Lothiriel by crying, but he could no longer hold back his anguish and fear. As the sobs overtook him, Lothiriel slipped onto the bed next to him and took him in her arms. Silently she stroked his head while he wept out the pain and fear and bitterness he had tried to suppress. 

Finally, as his sobbing eased, he murmured, “Lothiriel, I am...broken. I cannot allow you to throw your life away on one...such as I. You deserve a man who can truly be a husband to you – care for you, give you children...”

“Eomer, the choice is not yours to make. And I shall not consider my life as ‘thrown away’ if I am sharing it with the man that I love,” she told him emphatically. “We can have a good life together, even if there are no children. And we do not even know that for certain as yet. Let us take each day as it comes, my love.” She kissed his brow and held him firmly in her embrace, seeking to impart her strength to him. 

“Please do not turn me away. I could not bear it,” she whispered.

She pulled back so she could see his face and added softly, “I did not fall in love with your feet, or your legs, or even just your body, which is merely a shell for who you are. I fell in love with your heart and your mind and your spirit, and those have not changed. Life _will_ go on, even if you never walk again, and we will find a way, together, to make a good life of it. Rohan and her people need their king, and I need you. Do not turn me away.”

Eomer clung to her, and to her words. Perhaps he had never really known courage before. Maybe facing hundreds of orcs, and other assorted evils conjured by Mordor, was nothing compared to going on living in the face of this challenge. And maybe, just maybe, he could get through this, if Lothiriel was at his side.

She must have felt the change in him, for her hands went to cup his face and turn it toward her. Slowly, their lips met in an increasingly fervent kiss. When they parted, breathlessly, she teasingly whispered, “Just do not damage your lips, my love. I do not think I could live without your kisses!”

To his own immense surprise, Eomer smiled, probably for the first time since the injury.

They sat holding each other in silence for a long time, occasionally resuming their kissing. At last, Lothiriel pulled slightly away from him. “I rather suspect you have eaten little of late. You feel very thin to me. Will you eat if I have food brought?”

He nodded sheepishly, and reluctantly let her slip from his arms.

Lothiriel exited the room in search of Gamling, who was not far away. Once a meal was arranged, she asked if there were any dressing screens that could be brought to the king’s chamber. Gamling gave her a curious look and asked, “Dressing screens?”

“Judging from the smell, he has not had a bath since this happened, and the screens would allow him privacy from prying servants’ eyes while the tub is being prepared.”

Gamling hesitated. “Has he agreed to this?”

“Not yet. That is my next obstacle to overcome.” She paused, then asked, “Who of the men does he trust well enough to allow to assist him, causing the least amount of embarrassment?”

“Likely Elfhelm and Eothain. And they do already know of his condition. They are the ones who brought him home.”

“Summon them and let them know what I am attempting, so they will be prepared. And I will need clean linens to change the bed while he is in the bath.”

Gamling nodded, then ventured, “My lady...are you intending to be in the room during the bath?”

Lothiriel sighed. “We have few options in this matter. He would be more embarrassed by the servants being present than if I were there. Under the circumstances, I hardly think anyone will think me compromised, and I will endeavor to be as discreet as possible. But certain tasks must be performed by someone.”

The Doorward gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, then told her, “I will do all I can to keep undisclosed the extent that you will be assisting him – for decorum’s sake. But I thank you for your willingness to do this. You are right. He will be better able to tolerate these things from you than from others.”

He turned to his tasks while Lothiriel re-entered the bedchamber. A short time later, there was a knock at the door, and when she opened it, Gamling had the requested dressing screens and helped her place them so as to block the room being seen from the door and creating a private area for the tub. Eomer watched curiously, and when Gamling left, asked, “What is all this?”

She went to the bed and sat down, taking his hand in hers and nervously playing with his fingers. Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “The screens are to afford you concealment from the servants who may stare and gossip about what they see. And they are to provide you with privacy while you bathe.”

Eomer went rigid and snatched his hand from her grasp. “What!”

“My lord, to put it bluntly, you stink! You cannot give up bathing simply because you cannot get yourself in and out of the tub on your own.” She watched the emotions playing across his face and added more softly, “I know this is difficult for you, my love, but it is necessary. I am doing everything I can to make it as easy as possible for you, but in some things you _must_ swallow your pride.”

Eomer knew she was right, much as he did not want to admit it. With some trepidation he inquired, “How are you expecting me to bathe?”

“I have asked Gamling to bring Elfhelm and Eothain to place you in the bath. You should be able to bathe yourself once there, and then they can assist you out, aid you as needed in drying off and into clean night clothes and then put you back in the bed, which will have clean linens by then.”

He didn’t like it – any of it – but what choice was there? She was right; he had to bathe and he could not do it alone. If it was Elfhelm and Eothain, it wouldn’t be too horrible, but he could not quite shake a feeling of humiliation at the whole affair.

Another knock sounded at the door and Lothiriel disappeared around the screen to answer it. She returned a moment later with a tray of food and drink for the two of them. While they were eating, they heard Gamling enter, apparently with servants carrying the tub, and direct its placement. This was followed by the sound of many footsteps as the tub was slowly filled with hot water.

They finished their meal at the same time as the tub was full, and she cleared away the dishes and went to bring in the two men to assist. A chair was placed near the tub for Eomer to sit upon while drying off and dressing, and then Lothiriel exited to the hall with Gamling while they got him into the tub. After a few minutes, Gamling checked that he was transferred and signaled her in to allow her to change the linens. He had offered to do it himself, but she declined.

Apparently Eomer bathed quickly, in an effort to get this over with as soon as possible, for she soon heard them removing him from the bath. Suddenly she heard a few Rohirric imprecations and a loud crash. Without thinking, she bolted around the screen to find the three men sprawled on the floor. At the sight of her, Eomer blushed scarlet and covered himself with his hands, but was unable to form words. 

Realizing he was not hurt, she carefully kept her eyes fixed on his and reached for the towel laid nearby as she told them, “I seem to recall asking you men to assist the king in and out of the bath, not to drop him on the floor so he can roll about and get dirty again!” 

She made certain her face reflected that her words were meant in jest, and Elfhelm picked up on it. “Our apologies, my lady. The king is very slippery when wet.”

She bent down, still looking Eomer in the eye and grinned. “He can be very slippery even when he is not wet! Look how long he has avoided bathing.” She tossed the towel so it hit him in the face and dropped into his lap. “If you three are quite finished playing, do try to get some clothes on while I make the rest of the bed.”

Eomer’s face was gradually returning to a normal color as her humor eased his discomfiture, but his head jerked up at her final comment. “Why is a servant not making the bed? That is no task for you.”

Quietly she asked, “Would you have a servant gossiping about what she heard in here while doing so? I think it better that I see to your needs as much as possible.”

Once she disappeared around the screen, Elfhelm said softly, “How is it that you got so lucky, my friend? She is quite a woman.”

“I would agree with you there. But I cannot imagine I have ever done anything to be so worthy as to have her love me as she does.”

“Well, come on. Let us get you dressed before she comes back and fusses at us some more!” Eothain urged.

With some effort, which was proving to be a learning experience for their future reference in doing these tasks, they finally got Eomer dried, clothed and back in his clean bed. Lothiriel escorted them to the door and mouthed, “Thank you!” 

Elfhelm reached for her hand and squeezed it. “No...thank _you_ ,” he whispered, as they turned to leave.

When she returned to Eomer’s bedside, he looked closely at her and commented, “You look tired. I am clean and fed; there is nothing more you need do tonight. Get some rest, beloved.”

She nodded. “I think I will.” Leaning down, she caught his jaw to capture his lips in a kiss. “I will see you in the morning, dearest.”

In the hall, she found Gamling had arranged that a servant would sit outside the room each night. If the king rang a bell, the servant had gone to get Gamling to see what he wanted. She told him, “Do not hesitate to summon me during the night if you need me, Gamling.” 

He nodded his understanding and then guided her to the guest room they had set her up in, just a few doors away. A servant had already unpacked her belongings and she was grateful not to have anything more to do than ready herself for bed.

Sleep did not come so quickly as she had expected, given the tiring day of travel and upheaval. Her mind began replaying all that had transpired since that first moment when Faramir had given her the bad news. And, suddenly, she found herself curled in a ball and crying uncontrollably. Until that moment, she had shed no tears, which she had thought curious, but apparently she had still been in shock about the whole thing. Now her emotions kicked in, and she wept for all that was lost and all that was changed. But after a moment, she realized she also wept with gratitude that Eomer had not turned her away. Maybe, just maybe, she could turn this around for them and not let it ruin their lives – separately or together. Before now, she had known she deeply loved Eomer, but the thought of losing him, even by his own choice, was more than she could bear.

_to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Chapter 3**

Over the next few days, Lothiriel and Eomer talked much and developed something of a routine in how to take care of his daily needs. When he seemed somewhat comfortable with the situation, she moved to the next matter on the agenda – his kingship.

They had been talking about something inconsequential when at last she attempted the conversation. “Eomer, what do you intend to do about Rohan? You have not met with the council since this happened and, at the moment, this ship is rudderless. If you do not intend to remain king under the present circumstances, then a solution must be found soon. But I want you to know that I see no reason for you not to continue as king. Your condition will hamper your mobility somewhat, but your heart and mind are what Rohan needs most.”

She ended her speech and gave Eomer a nervous glance. He was looking down at his hands as she spoke, a frown on his face. At her final comment, he looked up and stared deep into her eyes. “Do you truly believe I can still function as a king like this?” he asked softly.

“Yes, I do. And I think you can be a very effective king. You have excellent men at your command in your army. Though you may not be able to lead them to battle, hopefully there will be little need for it anyway. If it turns out that you are not able to produce an heir, then Eowyn’s children will be next in line at your passing. We can make this work.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, not appearing entirely convinced. “And what if they do not want me to remain their king?”

“Then that will be their loss, and we will deal with it IF it happens,” she answered calmly.

His eyes came open and he shook his head. “How can you be so certain about everything? Does not _any_ of this worry you?”

She reached for his hand, and chose her words carefully. “I have confidence in us, Eomer. I know we can do much good for Rohan, if she will let us. But if she will not, we will make a life for ourselves anyway. I will not let us fail.”

He pulled her over to him and she lay against his chest, wrapped in his arms. He tried to hold back the tears that wanted to form as he told her, “How can I fail with you beside me?”

After a few minutes, she asked, “Will you meet with the council tomorrow and discuss the situation?”

With a heavy sigh, he answered, “Yes. But I want you with me – and I want you to speak freely, as if you were already my queen. I trust your judgement in these matters.”

“As you wish, my lord.” She snuggled deeper into his embrace, pleased with his capitulation.

xxxxx

Elfhelm and Eothain transferred Eomer to his throne before the council arrived the next day, and then stood to the side to await the meeting’s conclusion. The queen’s chair had been set beside the throne, and Lothiriel occupied it, her hand resting on Eomer’s arm when the council began to file in.

There were apprehensive glances at the king, though they tried not to stare, and it was clear they were trying to assess the situation since they had been given little information prior to this. Once everyone was seated, Eomer spoke, “My lords, I am sure you have many questions and we will answer what we can. For the most part, I have asked the Lady Lothiriel to speak on my behalf.” 

He gestured to Lothiriel, who rose and moved forward to stand beside him, her hand remaining on his arm. “My lords, our apologies that we have not previously kept you abreast of the situation. Suffice it to say, there has been much turmoil that you have not witnessed, and many things had to be decided before this moment. You are no doubt aware that the king recently suffered an injury. It has left him unable to move his legs. The healers do not know if this is a permanent injury or only temporary. Only time will determine that. Beyond that, the king is in excellent health and anxious to serve the people of Rohan, and I do not see any reason why he should not do so. If any of you do, please speak now.”

Eomer barely restrained a grin. Her phrasing made it rather difficult for anyone to argue with her, though he knew there were some on the council who might attempt it. Her cool gaze was raking the assembly for any dissent, and finally one man ventured to raise his hand.

“My lord Bronow,” Eomer said, to identify him for Lothiriel.

The man looked about at the others, seeking support for his question. “Eomer King, this is a delicate matter, but...what of heirs?”

Lothiriel did not hesitate. “That matter has already been considered. If in due course I fail to become with child then Elboron, son of Eowyn and Faramir, the king’s nephew, would become the rightful heir to the throne of Rohan.”

Eomer did not fail to note her choice of words – she put the blame for any failure to produce an heir on herself. Lord Bronow did not seem to have a rejoinder to her words and subsided. After several moments, when no other questions were produced, Lothiriel said, “Since you all appear satisfied that the situation is under control, I suggest a vote of confidence in Eomer King with a show of hands. All who will unfailingly support him in his kingship, please indicate with an upraised hand.”

This was more than they had been expecting but, after a brief hesitation, the hands slowly began to rise until all were in the air. Undoubtedly some had only followed the lead of the others, and without real conviction, but it was a victory nonetheless.

“Excellent!” Lothiriel said, smiling. “Now that we have put that matter to rest, I understand it has been some time since the council has been able to meet, so there are likely pressing issues that need addressing. I will yield to the king for this as I am not familiar with your procedures.”

And so the usual council meeting began. Elfhelm and Eothain shared a pleased look with each other. This had been the biggest hurdle. If Lothiriel could bully the council members into backing the king, likely no one else would challenge his remaining as monarch.

xxxxx

A few days after Lothiriel had been at Edoras for a week, Amrothos finally arrived. His father had given him what little information they had, but he did not really know what to expect upon making his appearance. He was relieved that his sister seemed in better spirits than he had anticipated and, surprisingly, so did Eomer. Apparently Lothiriel’s presence had been beneficial after all.

Eomer had not been seen in public, other than to meet with the council, prior to Amrothos’ coming, and he was persuaded that perhaps it was time to resume his office in view of the people of Rohan. A feast was planned to welcome the two visitors from Dol Amroth. Lothiriel and Gamling had their hands full trying to consider all the possibilities, and make it as easy as they could on the king.

At last the evening arrived, and Eomer met it with more than a little trepidation. He was very much afraid he would be the object of stares and whispers or, even worse, revulsion. But he needed to know how the people would react to him, and he might as well know now whether or not they could accept his condition.

It had been decided to go against protocol and have the king already in his place before the people were allowed into the hall. This prevented Eomer the embarrassment of being carried in, something he still found degrading. Once the feast began, he started to relax a bit, and many came forward to wish him well and say they were glad to see him improved.

As usual, the tables were pushed back for dancing, and Lothiriel spent a considerable amount of time dancing with anyone who asked her. She made it a point to visit with Eomer often, but did not make much time for sitting with him, and he gradually became agitated by her behavior. He had expected that at least she would keep him company so he did not feel so out of place, but instead he was left to chat with the occasional nobleman or Rider.

Lothiriel could not fail to notice his deteriorating mood and signaled Gamling with a nod of her head. They had known they might need to bring the evening to an early end, though usually Rohirric celebrations lasted until the ale ran out or everyone ventured home on their own. Gamling saw to it that the drink became short in supply and was not replenished, and more and more drifted away as they were cut off. 

Even so, some still lingered doggedly on, so Lothiriel dealt with the situation head on. Rising, she moved to face the assemblage and Gamling called for their attention. When the room had quieted, she told them, “My friends, you do honor us with this feast, but I fear it has been a long day for my brother and I. We are quite weary and find we must withdraw from your good company, but we very much thank you for coming.”

With the guests of honor departing their midst, the group finally took the hint to say their goodnights, and the hall was soon emptied. Lothiriel followed Elfhelm and Eothain as they carried Eomer back to his bedchamber and helped him into his night clothes. When they were gone, she turned to him, her concern showing plainly on her face.

She moved slowly over and seated herself on the side of his bed, but found he avoided looking at her. “My love, what is the matter? Have I angered you in some way?”

Eomer’s jaw clenched and he asked tightly, “Why would I be angry that you avoided me the entire evening? For someone who eschews dancing, you readily danced with every able-bodied man in the room!”

Lothiriel fought the tears pricking her eyes. She was suddenly very tired of everything, but she struggled to push down her annoyance with Eomer. If this was difficult for her, it was even more so for him, and she really did not want to lose her temper with him if she could avoid it. Softly she told him, “I am sorry if I upset you, beloved. I thought it best that I dance as much as possible to draw attention away from you. I feared if I sat too long talking with you it would draw unwanted notice, and engender feelings of pity for us, especially you. I should much have preferred sitting with you than dancing with anyone else.”

Eomer’s jaw twitched as her words sank in, and he realized how selfish and petulant he was being. But how could it be true that she preferred him, a helpless cripple? When he looked at her, his eyes reflected his torment, and she must have suspected the cause. She slid forward and eased her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss.

“I have only ever loved one man,” she whispered against his lips, then peppered his face with tiny kisses, and nuzzled at his ear. “And he is still the only one that I love; nothing has changed that. Though sometimes I am not sure he wants me to love him...”

His emotions surging within him, Eomer pulled her closer to claim her mouth. As they broke apart, breathing raggedly, he answered, “He very much wants your love, though he is not entirely sure why he has it. But it would kill him if he lost it.” He held her tightly, her arms around his waist and her head laid on his chest. He realized he was almost afraid to let her go, as if she had become a lifeline he needed to even draw breath each day.

They lay there together for some time, then reluctantly she pulled away. Brushing his cheek with her fingers, she said, “You will not lose my love. You may depend on that. But, now, I think it is best if we both get some sleep. It has been a long and difficult day.”

He nodded, but caught her hand and kissed her fingers before letting her move away. She put out the candles on her way to the door. “Good night, my love,” she said before exiting, and heard his soft response as she closed the door behind her.

She had not gone far toward her room before she was joined by Amrothos, seemingly from nowhere. He caught her elbow and hissed, “We need to talk, sister!”

Despite his tone, she allowed him to steer her into her bedchamber and close the door, before turning to him expectantly for an explanation.

“What exactly do you think you are doing, Lothiriel?” he demanded.

In confusion, she pointed out, “If I knew what you were speaking of, I might be able to give you an answer. What is the matter, Amrothos?”

“I am speaking of Eomer. Of your being alone with him in his bedchamber at night – for quite a while, I might add!”

Involuntarily, her hand began to move and gave him a resounding slap in the face. “I might have expected such accusations from a stranger, brother, but not from you! I have done nothing inappropriate with Eomer, and I resent that you would even suggest such a thing!”

She turned away from him, her anger blown out in her words and actions. Rubbing her forehead wearily, she turned back and tried to speak more calmly, “I am sorry I struck you, Amrothos. Someone needs to care for Eomer, and under the circumstances it is less embarrassing for him if I am the one to do it. The servants would stare and gossip, and make this whole misfortune even more taxing on him. Put yourself in his place and try to understand. But whether you do or not, it will not change my actions. Eomer needs me beside him, and that is where I will be.”

Amrothos continued to run a hand over his cheek, still pink from her slap, and gave a sigh. “Thiri, I do not think Father would approve of you...”

“I will _do_ what I think best, Amrothos,” she interrupted firmly. “I do not care if Father, or anyone else, approves or not. If you were lying in that bed, unable to walk, would you want me to turn away from you – for _propriety’s_ sake?”

She moved to him and touched his arm. “Gamling, Elfhelm and Eothain are not making known the extent of my direct involvement in his care. I would hope no one would think ill of me if they learned of it, but as I said before, I do not care. The only thing important to me is seeing Eomer through this difficulty.”

Amrothos shook his head, lost in thought, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you at least consent to letting me ask Father to move up the date of your wedding? No one could find fault in what you are doing if you were his wife.”

She closed her eyes and gave a weary sigh. “I have no objection to being married sooner, but you would have to discuss it with Eomer and see whether that is possible and desirable from his standpoint. A king cannot just marry on the spur of the moment. I will abide by his decision.”

Amrothos nodded. “I will speak to him tomorrow.” He reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I am sorry for what I suggested by my comments. I do trust you. I was just alarmed at what I seemed to be seeing.”

By the time he left and she was in bed, Lothiriel was exhausted both emotionally and physically. She desperately hoped she would be equal to the days ahead. She had only been in Rohan a fortnight and already she was worn out by the stress of it all. She did not think her troubled mind was going to let her sleep, but at last her body dictated that slumber would come.

_to be continued_


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. Chapter 4**

Amrothos wasted no time in approaching Eomer. He put in appearance the next morning as Lothiriel was eating the morning meal with him.

Behaving more formally than usual, he said, “Eomer King, I must discuss a matter of some importance with you.”

Eomer glanced at Lothiriel, who kept her eyes averted, leading him to suspect she knew the nature of this conversation. “Here or in private?” he inquired.

“Here will be fine. I made my intention known to Lothiriel last night.”

Eomer had thought Lothiriel seemed more tired than he would have expected this morning, and rather on edge. He wasn’t sure he was going to like this discussion... Even so, he gestured for Amrothos to pull up a chair and join them.

“Have you eaten?” he questioned, politely.

Amrothos nodded. “Yes. Before I came.” He paused, then jumped in. “With your permission, I would send a message to my father this day, requesting that your marriage to Lothiriel take place as soon as possible, rather than waiting the year he originally specified.”

Imrahil’s edict of their waiting a year had come on the heels of their newfound love and reconciliation the previous October, when Eowyn had had her baby. Eomer had spent a fortnight with his sister, and then joined Lothiriel in returning to Dol Amroth so that he could formally ask her father for her hand. Although he knew they had become friends over time, Imrahil had considered it best that they spend a year in courtship, during which they could become better acquainted on this new level before actually wedding. That meant the marriage was tentatively scheduled to take place some time in October or November of this year, and it was presently only April.

Eomer’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a reason you wish to do so?”

Nervously, Amrothos shifted in his chair. Taking a deep breath, he finally admitted, “I am concerned for my sister’s reputation if anyone were to learn how much she is assisting you.”

Eomer’s head jerked toward Lothiriel. “What have you to say about this, Thiri?”

Calmly, Lothiriel lifted her eyes to meet his. “I do not feel the need of a change in the marriage date, but I am not opposed to becoming your wife earlier than planned. Another six months will not change how I feel about you, and I suppose there are valid reasons why marrying sooner might be desirable.” She slid her hand across the table and took hold of his, giving it a squeeze.

Eomer turned his head and gazed out the window, over the plains of the Riddermark to the mountains on the horizon. “I would wish to stand beside you for our wedding, but I suppose there is no guarantee that I am more likely to do so six months from now than at present. And I do very much want you for my wife,” he murmured. Turning back to face her, he added, “Speak with Gamling about the details and how quickly it could take place, and then proceed if Imrahil agrees.”

Amrothos stood. “Thank you, my lord. I will send the letter to my Father now and let you know of his decision. My apologies for interrupting your meal.” He turned and left the room, and they sat in silence for several minutes.

Lothiriel couldn’t help but notice the emotions playing across his face. Moving her chair closer, she again took his hand. “Does this trouble you, my love?”

His jaw tightened and his eyes darkly stared away from her. After a moment, she realized his gaze was focused on the bed. Softly, she told him, “I do not know much of such things, as you would expect, dearest. I cannot tell you all will be well and nothing will be... ” She paused, choosing her words. “I love you, Eomer. We will find a way to be as intimate as the situation allows. Under the circumstances, I know our wedding night will not be ‘traditional’, but we will make it wonderful, nevertheless. Do not be distressed by any perceived shortcomings this injury has caused. We will simply have to be more...creative.”

He pulled her to him and she settled in his lap, his face buried in her neck. “I would so wish to come to you as a man, whole and strong. It is what you deserve.”

Unwilling to let him sink into this morose mood, she teased, “Well, you had best be focusing your attention on alternate ways of doing things, my love. Do not think I will go easy on you for this slight handicap. I expect great things of Rohan’s king!”

Despite the tears dampening his cheeks, he could not restrain a laugh. Shaking his head, he said, “Oh my beloved, what would I do without you?”

xxxxx

Heavy spring rains over the next few days kept kingly activity within Meduseld to a minimum. The advisers were not inclined to venture forth in the downpour any more often than they had to just for a council meeting, and Eomer, who had long believed many of the meetings were unnecessary, was not disappointed by it.

Gamling and Amrothos had discovered a shared interest in chess, and enthusiastically spent long hours bent over the chess board to while away the time.

Though Lothiriel’s daily activities in assisting Eomer had not disappeared because of the rain, she spent even more of the day in his room just sitting and talking with him. Letters during the winter had been difficult to send, and Eomer was not used to much written communication so his missives had tended to be rather brief. Lothiriel took the opportunity to ask about his parents, his uncle and his life in general. Normally, he was not an especially talkative man but, chatting with her, long hours would pass during which he would realize he had done most of the speaking.

Lothiriel told him of Dol Amroth and her life there, and they planned to visit it often after they were married. Eomer knew Lothiriel would miss her home, and he liked her father and family enough to wish to spend as much time as they could there.

The one thing they did not speak of was Eomer’s condition. There was little that could be said since they did not know whether he would ever heal, or how his present condition would affect them on an ongoing basis. 

Because Lothiriel had learned a great deal working with healers, and the healer of Edoras agreed with her idea, she devised a program to exercise Eomer’s legs by bending and stretching them daily. At first Eomer had balked at the activity, believing it senseless, but when she pointed out that an injured horse confined to a stall would lose condition during its recovery, he more readily accepted the idea that it could be beneficial.

Amrothos was waiting impatiently for a reply from his father regarding Lothiriel’s marriage. He knew the rains would have delayed the messenger, in each direction, but he was still anxious to receive some word. And at last, the expected response arrived.

After he had read it, Amrothos went to join Eomer and Lothiriel in the king’s room, taking Gamling with him. They looked up as the two men entered and Amrothos took a seat in a nearby chair.

“I have heard from Father,” he began. “As I expected, he was also concerned about your reputation, Thiri. He has agreed to move the wedding up to the middle of June. It will take that long to send out invitations and make preparations. Father will arrange to pack up the rest of your belongings and bring them with him when he comes, unless you prefer to return and do it yourself.”

He raised his eyes from the letter to discern the couple’s response. Without hesitation, Lothiriel answered, “Father may bring my things with him. I do not anticipate returning to Dol Amroth for some time. Gamling, let me know if there is anything you need me to do to assist with the preparations here in Edoras.”

Eomer had not looked up during the conversation, but sat holding Lothiriel’s hand. Gamling questioned, “My lord, do you wish to fix a certain date or shall I choose one at random?”

Eomer glanced at Lothiriel, who shrugged. “Choose whichever day best suits, Gamling,” he answered quietly.

Gamling nodded and the two men departed, leaving a much changed atmosphere in the room.

“Does this still trouble you, my love?” Lothiriel asked softly.

Eomer tried to pull his thoughts together. “Everything is happening so fast. I feel like my life is out of my control, and I do not like that feeling.”

“If you wish to wait longer for us to marry, Eomer, we will do so. Do not feel forced into this by Amrothos or my father. I want you to be comfortable with these decisions.” She could not keep a hint of hurt out of her tone, much as she tried.

Eomer reached for her and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her silently. After long moments, he told her, “It is not that I do not wish to marry you as soon as possible, or that I am unconcerned about your reputation, but...” His voice trailed away as he was uncertain how to express what he was feeling. At last he finished adamantly, “I would have you for my wife – as soon as possible, no matter what my concerns may be about my condition or our life together. I do love you, Thiri.”

She lifted her head from his chest and looked in his eyes. “You are the King of Rohan, Eomer. You have the right to have a say in anything that happens in Edoras, especially when it concerns you. Do not hesitate to speak your mind if you feel anyone, including me, is being high-handed and usurping your authority. I do not wish to rule in your stead, my love; I only hope to work at your side.”

“I know,” he whispered, pulling her back into an embrace. “I know.”

xxxxx

Luckily the rains had finally eased, and messengers were immediately sent to invite the wedding guests. Lothiriel left most of the planning in Gamling’s hands, as he knew the traditions and customs of Rohan and knew what needed to happen in the marriage of a king and the crowning of a queen.

Had she been less busy, and less tired, Lothiriel supposed she might have been more nervous about her approaching nuptials. She would particularly have expected it to be so with the acceleration of the date so that it was less than a month away. But somehow, in light of recent events, excessive consideration about wedding details seemed too trivial to concern her. And in some ways, she was glad to have the event transpiring sooner. The past month with Eomer had convinced her more than ever that she loved him passionately, and she was anxious to be his wife. True, there would need to be adjustments made, but she had become quite resourceful in these weeks of tending him, and did not think there would be any problem that could not be resolved in some acceptable manner.

Eomer’s emotions continued to run the gamut, and Lothiriel was never entirely sure when she approached him what his mindset would be. But she was quickly learning to discern his mood and adjust accordingly. More and more, she could see him reverting back to his old self – a confident and assured leader.

A fortnight before the wedding, Prince Imrahil and the party from Dol Amroth arrived, bringing Eowyn and her baby with them. With Elphir’s wife along on the trip, it had been determined that she could assist Eowyn along the way, and Faramir would join his family when he traveled to Edoras with King Elessar and Queen Arwen.

Lothiriel was grateful for Eowyn’s presence. She was even less inclined than Lothiriel to allow Eomer to give in to self-pity. And though the presence of Elboron was a painful reminder of what he might have lost, Eomer could not help enjoying his nephew. He seemed quite content to allow the active baby to crawl all over him and his bed, while he sat there with a pleased grin on his face and listened to the boy’s proud mother pass along the details of her son’s life since birth.

The day after his arrival, Imrahil sought an audience with his daughter. Lothiriel suspected what he might have on his mind, but allowed him to speak at will.

“Thiri,” he began, then stopped uncertainly. At last, he settled for the direct approach. “Are you certain about this? That you want to marry him? I would not have you marry out of a sense of obligation if your heart was truly not in it. And, all things considered, this is not a marriage to enter into lightly.”

She lifted her eyes to his, then moved to embrace him. “I am certain, Father. I know it will not be an easy life, whether he recovers or not, but I could never consider spending my life anywhere but at his side. I _am_ certain.”

Imrahil held his only daughter close, proud of her decision but concerned for what she was facing. “I will always be there if you need me, dearest. You are not alone in this.”

“I know, Father. I never thought that I was.”

_to be continued_


	6. Chapter 6

**6\. Chapter 5**

It was only a few days before the wedding, and life became even busier than before. More and more guests arrived, requiring much attention from Lothiriel. Eowyn and Gamling helped to the extent that they could, but many things only Lothiriel could do. It meant she had to spend less time with Eomer, so she was even more grateful for the heavy rains that had bought them so much time together.

She had just escaped a long-winded round of well-wishing in the Golden Hall, and had collected Eomer’s clean laundry to put away. She had not seen him since breakfast, and she idly wondered what this day was bringing him. As she sorted clothing into the correct drawers, arms unexpectedly encircled her from behind.

For a moment, she tensed, but then a beloved voice in her ear whispered, “Make certain there is plenty of room in those drawers for you to put your clothing also!”

She turned in the arms and gave Eomer a kiss. “You startled me! I did not realize you were in...” Suddenly she gasped and stared at him wide-eyed, then looked him up and down. He gave her a roguish grin and cocked a questioning eyebrow. 

“You are...standing!” Her hands cupped his face as she struggled to take it in. “Am I dreaming?” she asked.

“No, you are not dreaming. When the healer examined me yesterday morning, I realized that I could feel his hands on my legs. I did not say anything to you because I did not want to get your hopes up. But last night, my legs felt almost normal, so I attempted standing, and then walking around, after you left me for the night. I am shaky, and I tire quickly, but I can do it!” He pulled her close and let out a laugh. “I can walk!”

Unable to resist, Lothiriel began to smother him with kisses, and he made no objection to the attention. After a few moments, he did pull away from her and lead her to a chair. Sitting down heavily, he commented, “I did say I tire quickly, but I will improve in time. Probably I am doing as well as I am thanks to your exercise program for me to keep the muscles in some condition.”

He pulled her down onto his lap and they simply sat holding one another, too full of emotion to express it.

At length, Lothiriel whispered, “I am so happy for you, dearest.”

Eomer’s brow wrinkled. “For me? Are you not pleased as well that you no longer need to care for me?”

She just smiled softly and stroked his cheek, her forehead resting against his. “I did not mind caring for you, my love. I only minded that you were compelled to allow it, rather than choosing it. I will always care for you as much as you will let me.”

Eomer’s arms tightened around her, and he let out a contented sigh. A knock at the door interrupted their interlude, and with reluctance Lothiriel rose to answer it.

Elfhelm and Eothain stood there. “We have come to take the King to his council meeting,” Elfhelm advised. 

With a grin, she opened the door wider. “Do come in.”

Both of them gave her a questioning look at her behavior, but nearly jumped out of their skins when Eomer suddenly appeared around the screens saying, “Do not you men have anything better to do than laze about in the king’s bedchamber?”

After a moment of stunned silence and open-mouthed gaping, Elfhelm recovered first and let out a hearty laugh. “My lord, I am very pleased to find our services are no longer needed!” With only a brief hesitation, he pulled the young king into an embrace, and soon Eothain was clapping him on the back as well.

While the three men laughed and talked, Lothiriel slipped from the room and soon located Eowyn in the Golden Hall, going over the final menu with Gamling. Stepping up to them and giving them a solemn gaze, she said, “If you will accompany me, there is a matter of urgent business for which your presence is required.”

They looked curiously at her and at one another, but as she offered no other explanation, they followed her toward the sleeping area. It did not take long for them to realize they were headed to Eomer’s bedchamber, and as they drew nearer they could hear loud talk and merriment. Again, they cast a questioning look at each other, wondering what could possibly be going on. A moment later, they had their answer. In an instant, Eowyn had rushed into her brother’s arms and was hugging him tightly. “Oh, this is so wonderful!” she exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gamling was more restrained, but looked just as pleased at this turn of events. After a few moments, though, he realized why Elfhelm and Eothain were there. “Not to interrupt, my lord, but I believe there is someplace you are supposed to be just now.” He cast a meaningful glance at the two men and Eomer remembered their purpose.

“Yes, of course. I suppose I can go now, since everyone knows about my recovery who particularly needs to know. You may pass the word along to others as the opportunity arises.” With that Eomer led the way slowly down the hall, leaving only Eowyn, Gamling and Lothiriel standing together.

Eowyn swept Lothiriel into a hug. “I am so pleased for you, for both of you!”

Lothiriel brushed at tears on her own cheeks. “As you said, it is excellent news!” She turned to Gamling and added, “I do thank you, sir, for all you have done. I know your efforts went well beyond your duties as Doorward. You have proven yourself a devoted friend.”

Gamling blushed slightly but bowed to her. “Thank you, my lady. It was my pleasure to help, but I could have done little without you. Rohan has no idea the debt they owe you, or the quality of their soon-to-be queen.”

Casting aside protocol, Lothiriel went to embrace him, and after only a slight hesitation, he returned it. When they broke apart, she gave a laugh. “So, how does this foul our wedding plans?”

Gamling and Eowyn gave each other a startled look and immediately took off down the hall, discussing changes to the arrangements that were presently in place. 

Lothiriel smiled with amusement, then resumed her earlier task and finished with putting away Eomer’s clothes. His shirts were last, and before she laid them in their place, she ran her hand lovingly over one of them.

She stood lost in thought, realizing that she felt a little sad about Eomer not needing her so much as he had before. As difficult as it had been at times, she meant what she had told him – she had gladly cared for him, and would willingly do it again if needed – but she would miss the closeness his dependence had developed between them. She hoped that it could be maintained in some semblance after they were married, though she knew his recovered physical capacity would take him away from her far more often. Shaking her head, she pulled herself from this reverie. He was well. They would just have to find their new relationship in these changed circumstances.

xxxxx

News spread quickly throughout Edoras that the king was recovered, and there was much celebrating and well-wishing taking place. As all eyes were focused on Eomer, Lothiriel was shunted into the background in all the excitement. At first, she was merely pleased for Eomer, and took no notice that the attention was off her. But, gradually, she began to be aware that even Eomer seemed oblivious to her and was spending most of his time with others. There was no longer a need to take meals in his room with just her in attendance, nor did he need her to assist him in his daily activities, and she seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

By the second day, Lothiriel realized how hurt she was feeling by this. The closeness that she and her betrothed had developed had seemed important to the both of them, and she was bothered by how easily he appeared to put her completely out of his mind and his life.

The warm late-spring weather made it pleasing to be outside, so Lothiriel sought solace in the garden. The gardener was reluctant to have her working there, but could hardly refuse when she insisted she wanted to weed and dig. The physicality of it felt good, and helped distract her from her increasingly disturbing thoughts and concerns about her upcoming marriage.

She had been working there most of the morning when she heard footsteps approaching. Likely it was the gardener coming to try again to dissuade her, she thought. But the steps came to a halt and a familiar low voice said, “I suppose I should not be surprised to find you here. Do you know, I think it was when I first found you weeding my garden that I began to fall in love with you.”

Lothiriel continued to work and did not look up. She struggled to keep her face impassive, not wanting to get into an argument, but afraid her emotions were too fragile to prevent it. When there was no answer to his observation, Eomer added softly, “I miss you, Thiri. I realize now how nice it was to have yours be the first face I saw in the morning and the last I saw at night. I am glad our wedding is so close.”

Still she did not respond and Eomer’s brow wrinkled in concern and confusion. “Thiri? Are you all right? Have I done something wrong?”

“I am fine,” she said stiffly. “I want to get these flowers taken care of before the midday meal.”

It was not an answer to his question, he realized, and he stood staring at her, wondering what he had done and what he should do now. Before he could speak again, however, Gamling put in appearance. “My lord, the council is here and ready to meet.” 

Not wanting to deal with this matter in haste, Eomer nodded and said quietly, “I will see you later, beloved.” Her only reaction was to nod and continue with what she was doing. Slowly Eomer turned away, his eyes dark with worry.

Because his thoughts were on Lothiriel, Eomer found it difficult to pay attention in the council meeting and ended it as quickly as possible. Knowing he needed time alone to consider the situation, he had Gamling turn away visitors and holed up in his study to think. He had been there some time, making no progress, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he called, surprised Gamling had let someone slip past him.

The someone turned out to be his brother-in-law, Faramir. He watched as Faramir entered and took a seat across from him, gazing at him pensively. After a few moments, the Gondorian commented, “You seem troubled, my friend, and I know my cousin is upset about something.”

Eomer nodded and sighed. “Yes, but I do not know what. When I saw her earlier she did not seem to want to speak to me, and I was called away before I could try to discover the source of her unrest.”

“Can you not guess what it is?” Faramir asked quietly.

The king looked up, startled. “You know what is troubling her? Please tell me! Clearly she is upset with me for some reason, but I do not know what I have done…or not done.” He gave Faramir a pleading look.

Faramir sighed and shook his head. He tended to forget that not everyone could read people as well as he could, and obviously Eomer was not good at reading Lothiriel. “Since you regained the use of your legs, how much time have you spent with her?” he questioned.

Eomer blinked in surprise and thought for a moment. “Not very much, actually. It seems everyone wants to wish me well and celebrate so I have had no time during the day, and now that she is no longer assisting me I do not see her before or after my day begins. In fact, I just mentioned to her how much I miss her.”

From his answer, it was clear to Faramir that he still did not grasp the problem. “Saying you miss her is all very well and good, Eomer, but for almost two months she has devoted virtually every waking moment to your care. Suddenly you are well and she is cast aside like a broken toy. How do you expect her to feel?” He hadn’t meant to be quite so blunt, but perhaps it was for the best.

Slowly Eomer rose to gaze out the window, which by chance overlooked the garden where Lothiriel had been working. The distress was evident on his face. “I never intended…” His sentence trailed away, unfinished. After several moments, he asked, “Is this how it is to be, Faramir? Am I always to be hurting her through my thoughtlessness, even though I do not wish to do so? If that is the case, then perhaps she is better off not marrying me and subjecting herself to such torment.”

Faramir moved to stand beside him. “It does not have to be so. Do not despair, Eomer. You are no worse than most men. It is not uncommon for us to fail to see when we are hurting our wives by our words or actions. But if we are willing to work a little harder at it, we can improve. And most women seem to prefer tolerating such things from the man they love than living without him.” He brought his hand up to Eomer’s shoulder. “Talk to her. Apologize, and assure her you do still need and want her – that you were just acting stupidly. I would be very surprised if she is unwilling to forgive you, because the truth of it is, she misses you too. That is why it hurts so much.”

Eomer turned to look at the older man. “How is it you know these things? Is it just you, or does wisdom come with age?”

Faramir shrugged. “I do not know. Eowyn would likely tell you that I make my own share of mistakes. But hopefully I learn from them and do not make the same mistake twice.”

He turned toward the door. “Now then, since you cannot safely leave this room without being besieged by people anxious to speak with you, I will go and persuade my cousin to come talk to you here.”

“Faramir—” He looked back at Eomer questioningly. “Thank you. I can never repay the debt I owe you for all your help and guidance.”

With a grin, Faramir replied, “Perhaps not, but I will have to consider how to make you try!” He winked at Eomer and slipped out the door.

It was not long before Eomer heard loud voices in the hallway, and Faramir returned with his cousin slung over his shoulder, angrily berating him to put her down.

Eomer could not restrain a laugh. “You have a most interesting method of _persuading_ people!”

Faramir lowered Lothiriel with a smile. “My apologies, Thiri, but since you were reluctant to come by your own power, I thought this method necessary.” He caught her shoulders and turned her to face Eomer. “Now, I want the two of you to talk, and I am going to remain outside the door so no one can escape until matters are resolved. So resign yourself to finding a resolution, or being stuck in here a very long time.” He gave her a slight shove, and was quickly out the door.

Lothiriel turned to glare at the door and her unseen cousin. Crossing her arms, she faced Eomer once more, but avoided meeting his eyes. “Faramir seems to think there is something you wish to say to me, my lord.”

This wasn’t going to be easy, Eomer thought. She always seemed to revert to calling him ‘my lord’ when she was angry with him. He’d have to remember that – learn from his mistakes, as Faramir had said.

He walked over and sat on the edge of his desk. He still tired easily, and standing was uncomfortable for any real length of time. Rubbing his neck, he tried to find words to undo the mess he had created. He wasn’t a man who was skilled with rhetoric and flowery speech, and he felt unequal to the task of convincing her of his remorse. At last, he decided to approach this in his usual straightforward manner and just be honest with her.

“Thiri, I love you. That has not changed in any way. I know I have behaved stupidly, and no doubt it will not be the last time I do so, but none of my feelings for you are altered. Well, perhaps that is not accurate – it is very probable that they are even stronger than they were before. I cherish the time we spent together while I was paralyzed. The closeness we shared was the only good thing about it, and I do not want that to end. I have let others claim my time since I recovered, but it does not mean I do not want to be with you anymore…or that I no longer need you,” he finished softly.

He moved toward her and tentatively slipped an arm around her waist. When she did not resist or pull away, he felt emboldened. “Please forgive me, my love. Tell me I have not lost you,” he whispered.

With a sob, her arms came up around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her while she cried out her hurt and relief. As the tears eased, she whispered back, “You have not lost me. I was just afraid you no longer wanted me.”

“I will always want you. Even if I do not need you, I will always want you,” he told her earnestly. “And I will do my best to never make you doubt that again.”

One hand slipped forward to his cheek and she stroked it softly as she searched his eyes, finding the honesty she sought there. At last convinced, her lips moved to his and they were soon lost in one another’s embrace.

_to be continued_


	7. Chapter 7

**7\. Chapter 6**

Eomer was as good as his word. The rest of that day and the next, he made it a point to notice her even when they could not spend time together. 

The day of their wedding dawned clear and beautiful. Lothiriel was awakened just after dawn by a loud knocking on her door, but when she went to see who was there, the hall was empty. As she closed the door, puzzled, her foot kicked a piece of parchment on the floor and she retrieved it. 

Curiously she opened it to discover a note from Eomer, instructing her to meet him outside as soon as possible and to wear something she could ride in. She hesitated only a moment before beginning to quickly dress. She knew the ladies of the court, her family and most everyone else would be appalled at the couple seeing one another, and even slipping away together, on their wedding day, but she didn’t really care.

When she arrived at the bottom of the steps up to Meduseld, she found Eomer seated on Firefoot, smiling down at her. He reached down to help her up behind him. Teasingly she asked, “Are there so few horses in Rohan that we must share one?”

He grinned at her over his shoulder. “At least for now, yes!”

She slipped her arms around his waist, and asked with concern, “Are you sure you are up to this so soon?”

“I think so. Besides, I am taking a healer with me in case I have any problems! Who could argue with that?”

“Who indeed! Where are we going?” He had already started down the hill toward the main gate.

“Not too far. I can justify not taking an escort if we stay fairly close to Edoras. If I were at full strength and felt I could properly defend you, it would not matter so much.”

She squeezed him tighter and laid her head on his back. “This is a wonderful way to start our special day,” she told him, and his eyes lit up with pleasure at her appreciation of his efforts.

He turned Firefoot toward a distant grove of trees that stood alone on the wide plain. Less than two miles from Edoras there was a small spring around which trees had sprung up and flourished over time. When they reached it, Eomer surveyed the area for any dangers before they dismounted and he began unpacking a blanket and food.

As they sat down to their breakfast, she raised an eyebrow at him. “I am amazed.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

“I thought your soldierly instincts ran too deep for you to make such a cursory appraisal of our safety in this location!”

He let out a laugh. “You are right, but I need not be too careful in this instance. Be assured we are protected.”

It was her turn to look puzzled and he explained, “Likely you did not notice, but I saw an addition to the guard tower and a lone rider trailed out behind us. No doubt Elfhelm and Eothain, keeping a sharp eye on us – probably at Gamling’s request!”

She looked around. “Where is the one that followed us?”

He moved over beside her and turned her head to the left a bit, then pointed. “Follow my arm and sight off to that group of large rocks. He is hidden in there.”

She watched, for a few moments, the place he had indicated, then gave up with a laugh. “I will take your word for it. I see nothing!”

He leaned close to her ear and whispered low, “Just do not do anything to embarrass us, my lady!”

As he began nibbling on her earlobe and kissing her neck, she giggled, “Who should be warning who about such things!” All the same, though, she turned and met his lips with her own, and for several minutes they were oblivious to the world around them.

Reluctantly Eomer released her and pulled back with a groan. “So close and yet so far.”

“What is?” she asked curiously.

“You! Tonight cannot come soon enough, when I no longer have to force myself to turn away rather than compromise you!”

She just smiled and caught his hand up to her lips. As she watched, his expression sobered and he looked uncertain. “May I ask you something – without your mistaking my meaning?”

She looked at him with a startled countenance. “You may ask and I will try to understand your meaning...”

He thought for a moment, then observed, “When Amrothos suggested moving our wedding to an earlier date, you did not seem too eager. Did you not wish to marry so soon?” He turned away in embarrassment at the question.

Reaching over, she took his chin and turned him back to face her. “I was more than willing to marry you at any time, Eomer. What I did not want to do was make you feel guilty, and that is what I feared would happen if you thought I felt the need to marry sooner because I felt my aiding you had compromised me in some way. I wanted you to know that I was _not_ agreeing to marrying earlier because I felt sullied by my involvement. But I did not want to resist it too much, because I also realized that being your wife would make it easier to care for you by being less embarrassing for you.”

His hand came up and he took hers from his cheek, pressing his lips to her palm. “I should have guessed. I did not think about your uneager response at the time, but later I wondered about it.”

After a moment of silence between them, she said softly, “Well, I am beginning to regret agreeing to it. You seem to now think you can do with me as you please – such as dragging me out into the middle of nowhere at the crack of dawn, without even giving me anything to eat!” 

His expression had clouded at her words until she concluded. He let out a chuckle. “I can be a beast, can I not? By all means, woman, eat!”

He began to unpack the bread, cheese and fruit he had brought for them, and they sat eating, talking and watching the sun rise in the sky. At length, Eomer sighed. “We should be getting back. I am sure I will have many people upset with me for doing this.”

“Let them be upset, my lord! I am the only one that matters, and tonight your wife will show you how very upset she was _not_ made by this little outing!”

Eomer’s eyes glowed with pleasure at her declaration, and he rose, reaching down to pull her to her feet. Slipping his arms around her waist, he murmured against her mouth, “I look forward to it, my love.” And then he kissed her long and tenderly, one last time as his betrothed.

xxxxx

Not unexpectedly, the Golden Hall was in a bit of an uproar when they returned. Lothiriel gave Eomer a wink as each was dragged off in different directions, turning a deaf ear to the chiding they were both receiving.

For Eomer’s part, there was little to do but bide his time until the ceremony that evening. Gamling kept him busy most of the day catching up on as much work as possible so that he could have time to spend with his bride later on. Eomer was grateful for the distraction.

Lothiriel was not so fortunate. The ladies of the court all wanted to be involved in preparing the bride for her wedding, and the queen for her crowning. In truth, Lothiriel would have much preferred to be left alone to sleep or read in solitude, but she knew that she must endure their attention. 

Luckily for her, an hour before the ceremony was to begin, Eowyn and Arwen put in appearance and dismissed everyone from the room. Lothiriel gave them a grateful smile. “Ah, peace at last! Thank you!” She paused then glanced curiously at Eowyn. “By the way, when do I get to see my dress? How can we be sure it will fit if I have not tried it on in time to make any alterations?”

Eowyn had volunteered to come up with a suitable dress for Lothiriel as the wedding gift from her and Faramir. As Lothiriel did not feel particularly adept in selecting clothing, and she knew Eowyn would know what was appropriate for such an occasion in Rohan, she welcomed the offer. Arwen gave a secretive smile and excused herself, returning a moment later with a large package. She laid it on the bed before stepping over beside Eowyn, and the two women beamed at Lothiriel.

Lothiriel hesitated, not entirely certain what they were up to, but Eowyn was too impatient to wait for her to figure it out or ask questions. “It was my idea, and Faramir drew a sketch and took it to Arwen. She knew which dressmaker in Minas Tirith had made dresses for you, and knew your size and shape. She had it made up there and brought it with her. Open it!”

Though clothes normally didn’t engender a great deal of interest on Lothiriel’s part, she felt a sudden excitement about this. Quickly she reached for the package and pulled open the ties and wrapping. The dress was a beautiful midnight blue with white trim – the colors of Dol Amroth – but stitched around the skirt was a pattern of running horses, done in a light blue thread so that they stood out. The design was simple but elegant, and Lothiriel was speechless at the beauty of it. She lifted it slowly to her and stood back so the others could see. “What do you think?” she asked them.

Eowyn and Arwen smiled with satisfaction. “Perfect,” Arwen told her. “And you will look lovely in it. Come, try it on.”

They helped her into the gown and, oddly, Lothiriel found that it made her _feel_ both beautiful and regal. She wasn’t sure that she was truly either, but somehow the dress had that effect. “I do believe there is Elven magic woven into this dress!” she told them. 

Arwen came forward and smiled gently at her before giving her a hug. “The only Elven magic in it would be to help you see yourself as Eomer sees you.” 

Eowyn gave a laugh. “Ha! Mark my words, my brother will be utterly speechless when he sees you in this!”

Lothiriel dabbed at the tears trickling from her eyes. “Thank you both so very much. It is a wonderful gift.”

“Ah, but this is only Eowyn and Faramir’s gift. I was merely the courier for it. My gift will be to fix your hair. Have a seat,” Arwen instructed.

The three of them talked and laughed so much for the next half hour that Lothiriel took no real notice of what Arwen was doing with her hair. When she had finished, though, both she and Eowyn stood back to study the overall effect of their efforts. At last Eowyn nodded, “Yes, I think that will do nicely. I cannot wait to see the expression on Eomer’s face! We may need to revive the poor man!”

Lothiriel was smiling a little uncertainly at them. She had grown comfortable with her looks and accepted that she was not a beautiful woman. She could not envision her appearance causing such an effect on anyone, no matter the dress she wore or hairstyle she had. Arwen looked closely into her eyes, and seemed to read her thoughts. “Beauty is more than what is seen on the surface. It emanates from within, and today none of your beauty will be concealed.”

Lowering her eyes, Lothiriel responded simply, “Thank you.” 

There was only time for a brief hug among the three of them before a knock came at the door, and they were advised it was time to begin.

They hurried through the last minute tasks before beginning the journey to the Golden Hall. Meanwhile, Faramir had gone to get Eomer, and found him pacing in his study. He watched him quietly from the door a moment, then commented, “You are not nervous, are you?”

Eomer was so lost in thought that he looked up, startled at the question. Then he shrugged and cast Faramir a wry expression. “Perhaps a little. Is not every man on his wedding day?”

Faramir chuckled, and advanced into the room. “Yes, a little. You do not have any doubts, do you?”

Eomer quickly shook his head. “No, not doubts. I just...I just hope she will be happy here with me.”

A voice from the doorway responded, “She would not be happy anywhere else, Eomer.” Imrahil walked in to join them.

His soon-to-be son-in-law gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you – for that, and for so much more. You have raised your daughter well, my dear friend, and I am honored you would give me the best bloom of your garden. She is an incredible woman.”

Imrahil shook his head. “I can only take partial credit for what Lothiriel is. I did my best to raise her well, and I think I was rather successful in that. But I grew only the bud, the potential for beauty. It was not until she met the sunshine of your love that she fully blossomed into the glorious flower she has, and is, become.” He caught the younger man in a warm embrace and Eomer blinked rapidly to stay the tears that threatened. 

Faramir cleared his throat, and told them, “Though this is truly touching, a lady awaits. Shall we go join her?”

_to be continued_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big finish!

**8\. Chapter 7**

Eowyn was not mistaken in her assessment of her brother’s reaction when he first got a good glimpse of his bride. He stood rooted to the spot, and Faramir, realizing he might stand and stare all day, stepped forward and gave him a sound thump on the back to break his reverie. Whispering too low for anyone but Eomer to hear, he commented, “You can look all you want after the ceremony. Your guests grow restless!”

Eomer flushed slightly and moved to his place at the throne, while Imrahil went to join his daughter and bring her forward. Imrahil had a feeling that Eomer was not going to remember much of this later on, but hopefully he would retain his senses sufficiently to function during the two ceremonies.

Gamling led them through the saying of pledges first, and signaled Eomer to begin.

“I, Eomer, son of Eomund and King of Rohan, do take thee, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, daughter of Imrahil, as my wife and queen. I do vow to honor and defend...and love thee all the days of my life.” 

Gamling’s mouth twitched in a slight grin at the tiny addition Eomer made by including the word ‘love’ in the vows. He nodded to Lothiriel for her part.

“I, Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil of Dol Amroth, do give myself to thee, Eomer, son of Eomund and King of Rohan, to be thy companion all my days. I do vow to honor and serve...and love thee all the days of my life.” Following Eomer’s cue, she added the word ‘love’ as well, and saw the delight in his eyes.

Once they had been bound as husband and wife, Gamling stepped down to be replaced by Eomer. Facing the audience, he declared, “I, Eomer, King of Rohan, do offer to my people this woman, my wife, Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil, to be hereafter known as Queen of Rohan. What say you to this?” The audience responded with a loud cheer. The question was repeated twice more, with the same cheering response, and then Eomer declared, “Then so it shall be.”

Gamling stepped forward holding a gold circlet crown with a jewel in the center. Taking it, Eomer turned to Lothiriel who knelt before him, and he placed it on her head. Offering his hand, he helped her stand, then turned to the assembly and announced, “I present to you Lothiriel, Queen of Rohan.”

“All hail the Queen,” Gamling shouted, and the audience responded, “Hail!”

Normally the ceremony was ended at that point and the royal couple received well-wishers, but Eomer was not yet finished. To the glee of the crowd, he swept his bride into a lingering kiss that soon had the hall filled with catcalls and whistles. He broke apart from her, leaving his forehead resting against hers momentarily, then turned and shouted, “Let the celebration begin!”

Eomer was tiring, so they moved to the thrones and took their seats as guests came forward. The servants were busily pushing chairs and tables into position for the feast as the line worked its way past them. Once the noble visitors and members of the court had all had an opportunity to greet them, they made their way outside to the waiting crowd. Eomer again introduced the queen to them, and they were also allowed to accept her with their response.

At last, they returned to the Golden Hall where the tables were laid and the feast began in earnest. Eomer sat down heavily. All the standing required of him had taxed his strength. Lothiriel leaned close and murmured low, “I do hope you will be sufficiently rested after the meal to attempt a _dangerous_ dance with your wife, my lord!” 

He chuckled as he remembered the occasion when he had said something similar to her, when they had first met. “You may depend on it, my lady! I will not count the evening complete until I have danced with the Queen of Rohan!”

The feasting lasted well over an hour, but eventually the food was depleted and the room was made ready for the dancing, drinking and general revelry. Imrahil came to claim his daughter for the first dance, and midway through the dance Eomer broke in, symbolizing the father giving his daughter to her husband. Eomer pulled her close and the room seemed to disappear for a short time. They barely broke stride and glided into the next song, but by the end Eomer was flagging. As they returned so he could be seated, he commented, “I fear you will be much in demand as a partner this night, and I will not be able to rescue you from it all.”

“For this night alone, I will make an exception and dance with every man in the room if I must. But I will reserve the final dance for one man alone.” She gazed at him lovingly and he understood her meaning. He had just kissed her hand when, as predicted, the men began to approach, eager to dance with the new queen. 

First in line stood Elfhelm, flanked by a man that Lothiriel recognized as Garod. Eomer had pointed him out to her, though they had never come face to face prior to this. She knew he was Elfhelm’s second in command, and likely only accompanied him to meet the queen. She doubted he would willingly have come to her on his own. 

After a moment of pleasantries, Elfhelm realized they had not met and introduced them. She smiled gently at him and said, “My husband has mentioned you, sir.” Garod flushed pink and swallowed hard, but remained silent. Studying him appraisingly for an instant, she asked, “Would you dance with your new queen, Master Garod?”

He looked startled and shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. “Of course, my lady.” He offered his hand and they moved to the dance floor while Eomer watched with narrowed eyes, unsure how he felt about it.

Hesitantly, Garod put a hand on her waist and took her hand, but kept his eyes averted. They went through several of the movements before finally she told him, “Sir, I am aware of certain conversations you have had with my husband.”

He again swallowed hard and eyed her fearfully. “Forgive me, lady. I showed poor judgement in my comments.”

“But you believed what you were saying was true, did you not?” she questioned.

He blanched, and looked down at his feet. “Yes, my lady, I did.”

“Garod, all of us have done things in our past that were perhaps not wise, and hopefully we learned from our mistakes. But I would not wish to suffer forever for my poor judgement, nor would I wish to make anyone else do so.” His eyes came up to meet hers in surprise. “I should like very much if we could put the past behind us, and start afresh from this moment. What say you to this?”

Garod swallowed with difficulty and barely managed to speak, so great was his shock. “I should be very pleased to do so, my queen. Thank you.”

She gave him a smile. “Then it is decided. We shall speak no more of the past.” As the dance came to an end, she added, “However, I would impose upon you to find me some wine, for the dancing has left me quite thirsty.”

”With pleasure, my lady!” he said, and eagerly turned to his task. She began making her way back toward Eomer, who was watching her with a questioning look. Garod returned to her side just as she reached the king, and he bowed. “Best wishes, my lord.” Then he excused himself and moved away.

Eomer’s eyebrow quirked up at her, waiting for her to tell him what had taken place. Before she could comment, Elfhelm reappeared. “I thought I rated more highly with my queen, after all we had been through together, and yet she chooses another man over me to dance with first!” His eyes creased teasingly as he gave her a hurt expression.

She let out a laugh. “Business before pleasure, Marshal! Master Garod and I had matters to attend to that I thought best not postponed.” Elfhelm gave her a puzzled look and glanced at Eomer, who apparently didn’t fully understand her comment either. “However, I have caught my breath and quenched my thirst a bit, and I would be delighted to dance the next with you, if you are so inclined.”

Elfhelm offered his hand. “Where my lady is concerned, I am always inclined!” 

They moved to the dance area, laughing comfortably together, and Eomer was pleased to see it. He could not imagine another woman in all of Gondor who could have walked into Rohan and settled in so easily. It was almost as if Lothiriel had been born to be Queen of the Mark.

A steady stream of partners kept Lothiriel busy for the next hour, and Eomer had no chance to speak at any length with her. Tiring of this, when next she paused near him, he rose and claimed her as his partner. “Apparently, if I want any time with my wife, I must wait in line to dance with her!” he whispered, giving her a pout.

She smiled warmly at him. “On the contrary, my lord. All you need do is make your wishes known. You will move to the head of any line waiting on me!”

He pulled her closer and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. For a time, he merely danced without speaking, but finally curiosity got the better of him. Pulling back to look down at her, he asked, “So, tell me, what happened with Garod? I was amazed when you asked him to dance with you.”

She shrugged. “Not much. I told him that I knew of his conversations with you, but that I did not wish to dwell on the past. I suggested we begin anew from this point on.”

He stared at her in astonishment. “But he–”

“But nothing, my love. He is entitled to his opinion; an opinion _you_ once shared. Perhaps one day he, too, will learn to see with more than his eyes.”

He shook his head incredulously at her. “You astound me!” He paused, then added, “And you humble me. Learning to behold with my heart instead of my eyes was the best lesson I ever learned, beloved. Oh, what I would have missed if I had not been an apt pupil!”

He pulled her into a tight embrace and just held her close. When the dance ended, he took her hand and drew her after him, outside to the garden. They settled on a bench, with her in his lap. “I suppose we should not have left our own wedding celebration,” he commented, “but I cannot bear to give you up to others just yet.”

“You are the king, dearest. You may do whatever you like and who is to argue? Besides, by now most of them are so full of strong drink they likely will never notice we are missing.”

He let out a chuckle and agreed. “True! If we stay out here a while, perhaps we can slip back to our bedchamber and never have to return!” 

His lips began nuzzling at her neck, and she let out a laugh. “I see what game you are about, my lord! For shame!”

He nibbled on her ear and whispered, “You will find I know no shame when it comes to you, beloved.”

How could she resist such inducement to yield, and so she joined him readily, returning his kisses. As their passion became more heated, he finally rose and set her on her feet. “It is time, my love. We have been parted long enough.”

He watched her for any reticence, but found none. “Aye, my lord. It is time.”

Arm in arm, they made their way home.

_THE END_

3/23/05 – 4/23/05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> **Hope you enjoyed this version of Eomer and Lothiriel’s courtship and marriage. Next up will be Lord of the Rings meets Jane Austen, starring E/L. The story is named (no real surprise) ‘Persuasion’. I’ll start posting it Sat., March 6.**  
> 


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